


déchiré

by freakfort



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Mental Breakdown, Suicide Attempt, slightly OOC, sorry that soldier never speaks in this lol, this is my first crack at a tf2 fic, tw for a suicide attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-11
Updated: 2020-12-11
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:15:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28003014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freakfort/pseuds/freakfort
Summary: "Nothing could stop him from jumping from that window to his death. And nothing would convince him not to."
Relationships: Soldier/Spy (Team Fortress 2)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 29





	déchiré

**Author's Note:**

> fic drabble, extremely ooc and self-indulgent soldier kinnie writing. first fanfic in a long while, so dont yell at me

The sound of heavy weight paper being torn woke Spy from his light and restless sleep. 

Rubbing his eyes free of sleep with one well-manicured hand, he sat up and blearily stared into the darkness with a groan. Who was shredding documents, (inefficiently, and by hand, no less), at this hour of the night?

As he turned his ears toward the source of the noise, he easily placed it somewhere down the hall, close to where Medic kept his files and medical equipment. One could hardly call it an office, it was unbelievably messy, in addition to being woefully small. Wordlessly lamenting his good night’s rest, Spy slid himself out of bed, resigned. If they had an intruder, or a thief, he would have to take care of it. 

The light grumble of thunder and patter of rain against the brick walls of BLU’s base gave faux comfort to him as he crept down the hall, knife in hand and lethally poised. As he neared Medic’s workroom, the ripping noise intensified. The sharp stench of permanent marker filled Spy’s nose as he approached the half-closed door, and he barely resisted the urge to cough from it. Peering through the two-inch crack between the door and it’s frame, his grip hardened on his familiar balisong. It was so dark, he could hardly see- all he could make out was a large, hunched figure. Preparing himself to strike, he nudged the door open with his foot, confident that the man inside would keep his back turned if he was quiet. Why was someone in here, in the middle of the night, ripping up medical files? How had they even gotten inside? Spy’s mind raced as his eyes focused, adjusting to the dim lighting. Lightning struck outside, and for a moment, Spy saw a flash of the man’s shoulder. A BLU emblem displaying a rocket in mid-flight was proudly and poorly sewn there. 

Shocked by the sight of his teammate destroying vitally important medical documents, Spy instantly lost all inhibition, despite his neurosis telling him that this could be a trick, or a disguise. 

“Soldier?” he called out, more loud than he had meant to. He winced at the volume of his own voice, internally. Papers scattered and fell to the floor- obviously, Soldier hadn’t even heard him come in until he had spoken up. As his eyes adjusted more to the available light, he saw scraps of paper everywhere- on the floor, the desk, in the trash. There was a clear trail, and it looked like Soldier had been pacing the room, ripping files with his bare hands.

Dimwit.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he hissed, irritation clouding his sleep-deprived mind that Soldier, of ALL people, was keeping him from resting. And for what? Arts and crafts with Medic’s file cabinet? “I could have killed you- I thought you were an intruder! Give me that, stop destroying Medic’s things.” 

Ripping the remaining papers out of Soldier’s hands before he could react, Spy squinted down at the partially torn documents. He felt his heart drop into his stomach as he realized that Soldier was holding, and destroying, his own medical files. Confusion was visible on his face as he furrowed his brows and looked around, seeing shreds of paper also bearing Soldier’s name, title, and date of birth, all scattered. The paper in his hand read ‘Hebephrenic Schizophrenia: acute’, written in Medic’s evenly-spaced handwriting. 

“Merde-” he began, pressing a hand to his temple and taking a surprised step back as Soldier snatched the papers away from him. “Soldier, stop it!” he yelled, watching as the larger man ripped the paper clean in two.

Soldier’s chest was rising and falling rapidly, and Spy could hear his labored breathing. He was wheezing, as if it was difficult for him to respire. 

Feeling tears stinging his eyes, Soldier cleaved the paper in half, his vision so blurry he could no longer distinguish what was on it. He didn’t care. He just wanted it gone, ripped so badly no one would ever be able to read it. Especially not him. 

A man’s voice taunted him inside his head, urging him on. If anyone read these pages, something horrible was going to happen. They’d lock him away; they would hate him. They might even kill him, who knows? A dull ringing caused his ears to ache, getting louder and louder the more he spiralled into his thoughts. Spy’s yelling was muffled completely by everything else around him and inside him. 

Someone tugged at the remaining scraps he was gripping onto for dear life. So hard was he gripping it, in fact, that the paper was crumpled to destruction and the ink was bleeding onto his skin from the sweat on his palms. Snapping back to the present, Soldier pulled his arms to his chest, turning his shoulder away from Spy’s prying hands. 

Spy was speaking to him intensely, he could see the fierce concern in his eyes and could see his mouth moving, and yet heard nothing. Soldier gritted his teeth and shut his eyes tight out of pain. Everything was so loud. 

So loud … 

Suddenly, someone’s hands were holding either side of his shoulders, turning him forward by force. In a panic, just as thunder crashed above them, Soldier wrenched his arm free and punched his aggressor across the face, hearing the sickening sound of knuckles against bone. As his vision faded back, he stumbled, falling against the wall and feeling his stomach churn as he realized it had been Spy who had grabbed him, probably in an attempt to calm him down. 

“Get out!” he screamed, unable to hold back tears as he violently roared at his teammate. “Get the hell away from me! Don’t touch me!” 

What was wrong with him? Why was he acting like this? He was going to get it for sure now- they’d get rid of him, cart him off somewhere. He watched, horrified by his own actions with tears uncontrollably streaming down his face as Spy held his nose, blood seeping from between his fingers. Shocked, Spy just stared at him, his eyes narrowed to slits from fear. Soldier’s eyes traced away from Spy, toward the window on the far side of the room. 

Nothing could stop him from jumping from that window to his death.

And nothing would convince him not to. 

His feet ached as he ran toward the open window, the rough texture of the brick pane scraping against his hands as he managed to clamber to the edge of it and throw himself off, back toward the ground. He braced himself for impact; for death- his eyes shut tight as they could as his stomach registered the weightlessness just before the fall. 

Suddenly, panicked hands snatched the back of his shirt, yanking him upward. A straining groan snapped him back to reality as he realized that Spy had just saved his life. He was attempting to pull him back up. The merc’s fearful, determined eyes met his own as he opened them, rain and wind battering them both as they precariously balanced, Spy leaning so far out of the window he might fall himself. Soldier’s survival instincts kicked in, and he scrambled the rest of the way up with Spy’s help, praising every god in the sky for the grips on his boots. 

They both collapsed onto the floor, exhausted. Spy could hardly breathe, and his muscles screamed in pain. 

“Why-- did you.. Why would you ever… ?” Unable to form a coherent sentence, Spy babbled and fumbled over his words from shock. 

The sound of a grown man sobbing shut him up. 

Nothing needed to be said. No one needed to be reprimanded. Spy felt his heart shatter as he watched his teammate sob into his hands, his fingers pressed hard into his eyes in a pitiful attempt to stop the tears.

“Soldier,” he murmured, changing his tone of voice to be as soft and as comforting as possible. “Tout ira bien, come here.. It’s alright, you’re safe now.” As he spoke, Spy placed a comforting hand on the other man’s shoulder, rubbing gently with his thumb. 

At first, Soldier pulled away, both physically and emotionally, and felt his stomach wrenching painfully at the sight of Spy outstretching his arms to him. The other looked at him sympathetically, sensing his distress. A few heartbeats passed, and Soldier softened, letting down his iron-strong walls and leaning over, allowing Spy to move his head into his lap. For a while he layed there, wordless and practically wailing while Spy muttered to him in French, petting his hair and comforting him as he cried. 

Eventually, his breathing evened and he slowly fell into an exhaustedly deep sleep, legs pulled to his chest with his arms wrapped around himself like a child. The Frenchman leaned his head back against the wall and shut his eyes, confident that Soldier was going to be asleep for a while. A smile played on his lips as he thought about the poor sap who would walk in on this sight in the morning. 

Hopefully Medic had copies of those pages.


End file.
